


Sweetie

by seabearhasleftthechat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Hellhounds, Sam finally gets a dog, Swearing, crowley’s alive yay, deancas and if you blink you won’t miss it, idk what i’m doing bear with me, kinda changed up the plot of s14???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seabearhasleftthechat/pseuds/seabearhasleftthechat
Summary: The one where Team Free Will needs extra protection and Sam goes to the last place any of them wanted to go, to get the last thing any of them wanted.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Kudos: 23





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> In this universe, Michael didn’t lock himself inside of Dean after they defeated Lucifer. He was cast out, and forced to take on a different vessel so that he could begin creating his monster army.

_"Holy... holy shit."_

"I can assure you, she won't bite. Well— at least not much."

Sam peered down at the hellhound puppy that was playfully leaping at his kneecaps. Brows furrowed, he broke eye contact with the glowing reds below to instead focus on the grinning demon in front of him. "I mean, I figured they were capable of having puppies, but I didn't know that said puppies didn't all come out as blood-thirsty bastards..."

The puppy removed its paws from Sam's legs, opting to sit on its haunches almost...obediently?

"Crowley, is this one _trained?"_

Crowley scoffed, "These hounds are not like the hounds you have upstairs, Moose. These darling doggies have more than twice the intellect and one hundred times the bite."

Sam couldn't help but wince at the last part, shuffling a few steps away from the patient dog.

"'Course, she wouldn't attack you if you were her owner. Hellhounds are naturally inclined to take orders, as they've been bred and directed by demons for millennia. So," The demon let out a sharp whistle, and the puppy suddenly went from a lazy, seated position to a rigid, standing pose. It's teeth were slightly bared, and it's jet black body was stock still.

"Puppy's always eager to learn new tricks."

Sam watched with wide, curious eyes. He'd always wanted a pet, but nothing of the vicious, demonic variety had ever come to mind before. _We only need this thing for extra protection_ , he hastily reminded himself.

But was he absolutely sure that there was no other option? The younger Winchester had searched through countless spell and occult books looking for a defensive object— protection spells, hexes, anything—but to no avail. None of them were permanent enough to ensure long-lasting safety for every member in the bunker, and Sam knew they could not afford to be compromised by any members of AU Michael's monster posse. Hell, he'd even looked into finding a golem somewhere, but that would most likely require him to be a member of a Jewish family who planned to pass the creature onto him. Which, unfortunately, he was not.

"So, Samuel, what do you say?" The King of Hell's lips were pulled into a daunting smirk, teeth showing almost wolfishly as he waited for the hunter to speak. "I promise," Crowley pressed a palm over his heart. "She's had all her shots. Tick-free, too."

He paused, sparing a glance at the still idle creature. "I doubt those little pests would survive long on her pelt anyway. Hounds tend to get quite... _warm_ when threatened."

Sam was torn. He knew he shouldn't have been, and the little voice in his head was screaming for him to decline, or ask for something else— hell— even running away as fast as he could sounded pretty good right then and there.

But he couldn't leave empty-handed. This was his last resort.

"You're sure this thing won't go all _Cujo_ on me? Or Dean?"

"Like I said," the demon's tongue quickly swirled across his bottom teeth before receding into his mouth again. "Hounds are bred to follow orders. Simply allow her to pick up your scent, show her you mean no harm, and she's all yours. Might wanna give her a name too, while you're at it."

Dean would kill him. He'd kill him, and then kill the dog. No.

Would the creature get along with Cas? What if he got upset and attacked her? Or vice-versa? That could end badly for everyone. No.

Sam didn't even have a clue what the hell these things ate.

No. _Hell no._

"Alright."

"What was that, Sam?"

The hunter let out an exhausted huff as he decided to give in against everything he'd ever been taught. "Yes, Crowley. I'll take it— _her_ — whatever."

The demon clapped his hands together, nodding at the hunter with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Excellent. Now, you must let her scent you. I'd suggest you go slow, put a hand out. Let her come to you."

Sam obliged, and the demonic puppy's head gave a quirk at the the action, body lifting from her haunches with ease to approach the timid hunter. A wet, black snout was soon bumping against Sam's fingertips, and when he rotated his hand it did the same against his bruised knuckles. The man was almost frozen otherwise, more sweat beading on his brow with every sniff. Then, something interesting happened.

The hound let out a firm grunt, almost like it was deciding to accept Sam, before giving the human's fingers several long licks. Its tongue was slightly painful against Sam's hand, the closest equivalent appearing as a strip of sandpaper in the hunter's mind as it happily lapped away at him. The hound then stopped, moving back to sit on its haunches as it awaited a command.

"Wow... uh... okay?"

Sam reached out to deliver an experimental pat on the creature's head, which was accepted immediately as she gleefully leaned into his touch. It couldn't be this easy. When was it ever? Sam hadn't failed to spot the weird look in Crowley's eyes earlier; the demon always seemed to be hiding something extra from them whenever they made deals.

"So... what is it that you want from me exactly?"

"I don't know what you mean—"

"Oh, don't play stupid. You're giving me a friggin' _hellhound_ , free of charge, and you're telling me there's no strings attached at all?"

The demon held both of his hands out in a mock surrender. "No strings, Samuel. You boys are, for what must be the billionth time, fighting to save the planet. I happen to enjoy the planet as it is—in tact. Makes for an easier, less hectic soul-collection-system. And, far less paperwork than if half of them were to all arrive at once."

Sam just stared on, making Crowley roll his eyes.

"I like things the way they are now, yeah? So if a furry companion is what the Winchesters need, then, well... I'm happy to be a provider."

"How selfless of you," Sam muttered, flaring his nostrils as a fake smile plastered itself onto his face. _This was going to be hellish._

The mild-tempered hound woofed at his feet, demanding more head scratches as its blood-red eyes bore deeper into Sam's hazel ones.

Literally.

Before Sam could ask what the intimidating thing ate, Crowley raised two fingers and snapped, sending a woozy feeling throughout the Winchester's body as he suddenly found himself in a different location. Sam looked around frantically but only found the small yet stocky hound stood beside him, its long tongue lolling out of its mouth atop a row of razor-sharp teeth.

"That sly son-of-a-bitch."

Sam felt a slight scratching within his left palm, and uncurling the fist he discovered a small note, which read:

_Don't forget to give her a name. As for her eating habits— you're a smart boy. Figure it out. I'd hurry though, hounds have quite the extensive appetite when pushed._

_Sincerely, The King of Hell._

Goddamn him.

Sam could spot the sleek exterior of the Impala some ways away, and realized Crowley had simply zapped him right back to where he met him. He was grateful for that, at least. Starting towards the car, the sound of thick claws clicking against gravel trailed behind him dutifully, and he couldn't help but sigh.

Sam was so fucked. He wasn't even sure if this thing would be able to protect him against the wrath of Dean and Cas combined. It was only a puppy still. But Sam knew it was capable of some gruesome shit if it felt threatened.

Well, fine. He would just have to be sure it didn't feel threatened.

So much easier said than done, especially considering the trigger-happy older brother who was patiently awaiting Sam's return to the bunker.

Opening the backdoor of the Impala, he motioned for the hound to jump in. It complied, leaping gracefully onto the leather seats and laid down across them with its head resting on its paws. Sam couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this creature was more obedient than he previously thought was capable.

"Hey, you," Sam called to the backseat once he slid into the driver's. A furry black muzzle raised sluggishly, and the hunter still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that occurred when those glowing pair of eyes met his. "Uh...hey, girl...you feelin' hungry yet?"

It was probably the dumbest fucking question Sam Winchester had ever asked, like, ever. He wasn't just talking to a puppy dog here— no— he was discussing food with a damn hellhound. Sam wouldn't be shocked if the thing decided that, yes, it was quite hungry, and simply leaped into the front seat to maul the poor man to death. But he had to ask, right?

Who was he kidding? He didn't even know if this thing understood English.

And now Sam was just back to staring at the dog blankly as his thoughts whisked him away from reality. When a sharp bark brought him back a few minutes later, he flinched. The hound was sat up now, front paws pressed into the glove box as she leaned closer to her new owner. Sam closed his eyes, realizing there was no way out now. Crowley had set him up. This hound was going to rip him to shreds like a Sarah McLaughlan pipe dream, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The hound was so close to Sam's face that he could feel it's hot breath stinging his cheek. Then, almost like a remedy, it ran its long tongue up the hunter's face. Then again, and again. And again.

She was woofing and sniffing and licking at him, and when Sam dared to crack open an eye to see why she was playing with her food (as well as to grab the gun that was concealed between his belt and lower back,) the hound nuzzled her head into his.

_What the fuck_ , Sam thought for what felt like the eightieth time as the female hound began to rub its thick, coarse fur against his neck. She let out a soft whine, which actually sounded like three whines combined into one when she continued to get no response. Once again, against all instinct, Sam raised a shaky hand from his gun to her tresses, petting and smoothing it down as she nosed at his jugular.

"Okay..." the hunter cooed, trying to keep his voice calm and levelled as the creature pressed impossibly closer to his side. "That's-a-girl. You like being pet a lot, don't you? Hm? _Gooood girl_..."

The hound gave an affirmative "woof," wet nose bumping against the stubble lining Sam's jaw as she revelled in the attention.

He couldn't believe it. The Winchester had never seen a hound so docile, so submissive to a human. _Maybe these creatures were only mean because they were severely touch-starved_ , Sam pondered as his petting turned to scratching behind her pointy ears. The thick, black tail behind her moved up and down in contentment, and Sam only stopped when he could hear the sharp barbs lining the appendage going straight through the leather of the backseat.

_Shit._ Now Dean would really kill him.

Pushing the affectionate hound away as gently as he could, he ordered her to go lay down again, and she did so without objection.

"Yes! Good girl. Okay. Alright. I can work with this." Sam attempted to shake himself out of a state of minor shock as he put the key in the ignition, pausing for one more moment before he sent the Impala barrelling off towards the bunker.


	2. Two.

"Hey, Siri?"

Sam's iPhone came to life, bright screen illuminating the Impala in the, now, dark of night. It blurred as it waited for a command.

"What...what do hellhounds eat?"

The phone whirred as it computed the question, and even though the younger Winchester knew the voice behind Siri was nothing more than A.I., he still felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as she repeated his request along with her findings.

_"According to neverenoughlore.com, hellhounds are said to have a diet mainly consisting of live animals."_

Sam froze, not wanting to even think about having to nab a poor animal off the road every couple of hours just to feed this canine beast.

 _"However,"_ Siri continued, _"they can also eat the meat of a dead animal, and are typically not very picky as long as the meat is fresh."_

The hunter let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding in, the iron-grip he had on the steering wheel going slack. He thanked the Universe for making hounds' stomachs versatile, since they had tons of meat stocked up in the freezer at home. It was debatable how "fresh" they were in terms of meeting hellhound standards, but they'd just have to work with it for the time being. If she really hated it, he'd take her out to find something else.

At that, the hound let out a small whimper, it's stomach growling ever so slightly. _Uh oh._

"Don't worry Sweetheart, we're almost home. I know you're hungry," Sam said, shooting her a sympathetic glance.

_Wait._

"Sweetheart...?" Sam internally questioned.

__

The hunter didn't even mean to use the term of endearment. It just came out.

__

There was no way this dog had him whipped so soon. She'd only been with him for a couple of hours, and she was a fuckin' hellhound for God's sake. But when Sam looked into her eyes, he hated that he saw nothing but loyalty and adoration shining back at him. Plus, she was so well trained already. It was almost perfect.

__

_No!_ Sam chided the soft part of his brain, demanding himself to remain alert and calculated when it came to the demon spawn dozing off in the backseat. The creature was still dangerous, albeit its interest in him, and Sam was unsure how she would react to others being around her. Or around him.

__

The sound of his phone ringing startled both parties in the car, Sam spotting the hound's head raise in his peripherals as she silently stared at the source. Seeing it was Cas, he answered the call and put the angel on speaker phone.

__

"Hey, Cas."

__

"Sam. Are you alright? How is the search going?"

__

"Well," Sam hesitated, glancing between the road ahead of him and the hound sniffing around the car's interior. "I found something. It—it's probably not the best option but it's all we got."

__

Before Cas could ask what exactly "it" was, Sam spoke again. "By the way, you mind taking out some meat from the freezer? Need them to thaw before I get home."

__

The hunter could sense the angel's growing confusion from beyond the phone screen. "Why? I thought Dean was ordering you both pizza for toni—"

__

The hound's claws lightly scratched against the handle of the backdoor as she started to whine. It was clear she wanted out of the car, and hell, Sam didn't blame her. They had been driving for at least four hours now, and both felt the need to stretch their legs as soon as possible.

__

"Sam. What was that?" Cas called out.

__

"Oh! that was just... uh, well—hmph. C-can I just explain when I see you? I'll be there in ten."

__

There was a pregnant pause, as if Cas was debating whether or not he should just zap himself into the Impala right then and there to see what Sam was hiding. Eventually, he sighed, giving into Sam's plea.

__

"...Alright, Sam. See you then." Cas dropped the call, and the Impala knew silence once more.

__

The hunter could only hope this new encounter wouldn't end in bloodshed. With one more look at the sleeping puppy through the rearview, Sam vowed that he'd try his best to keep her away from his family's aggression.

__

They could grow to love her. They just had to see.

__


	3. Three.

"There you go, that's it," Sam nodded down at the delighted puppy who was very busy with gnawing away at the bloody hunk of meat before her. He had managed to sneak her in somehow, expecting Cas or Dean waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs only to find no one in sight. They must've still been in their rooms, but surely Cas heard him come in, right? With the celestial hearing and all?

"Alright girl, I don't know if you can understand me..." The hound's ears perked at the sound of her owner's voice, and Sam watched as she dropped the bone she had been chewing on to look up at him. She swiped her tongue across her bloodied chops, waiting politely.

"I guess Crowley wasn't lying after all. You _are_ smart."

In the distance, a door opened, and much to Sam's chagrin he could suddenly hear the faint garble of whatever Dean and Cas were talking about. Their footsteps were getting closer and the conversation was soon very coherent as they made their way across the bunker. As much as Sam had gone over how he would explain what he had done to Dean and Cas during the nearly five-hour long car ride, he found his mind drawing a big, fat blank. If he told Cas about the hound before he got home, Cas would've told Dean, who then probably would've screamed at Sam to either drop it back off where he found it, or kill it. As much as the younger Winchester hated the idea of just dropping this on them with no warning, maybe it would help for them to see the hound in person and how sweet she could actually be.

"Sweetie... that's what I'm gonna call you. You like that?" Sam quickly asked.

The hound jumped up and the hunter met her halfway, allowing her to lick him a few times. "Alright, 'Sweetie' it is. You think you could go invisible for me, girl? My brother, Dean and my friend Cas need to meet you but they might be a little... uncomfortable at first. I'll let you know when it's okay to be visible again."

Sweetie tilted her head, Sam figured she might've still been processing his words, before she disappeared right before his eyes. "And no barking or growling, either," Sam added. The hound started to whine, but a low reprimand from the hunter quieted her down immediately.

"Sammy! You in?" Dean's voice boomed through the bunker, and Sam yelled back meagerly, announcing that he was in the kitchen. Soon enough, Sam was standing before his brother and Cas. They had entered the room with half-smiles on their faces, as if they knew something Sam didn't. The younger Winchester chose to ignore the unusually disheveled dress shirt that was lying underneath Cas' poorly fixed tie. He also chose to ignore Dean's flushed appearance and the hair that stuck out in several different directions as he ran a hand through it subconsciously. It wasn't really Sam's business, after all.

_At least he wasn't the only one keeping secrets around here._

"Hey," Dean said, leaning up against the wall like nothing ever happened. "Cas was tellin' me you might've found something...?" The smile on his face was nothing but a memory now, features hardened and serious looking.

Sam gave a nod, swallowing hard. "It's a bit... unconventional, but just hear me out, alright?" He took the silence that followed as his cue to continue. "I-uh-I spoke to Crowley abou—"

 _"You what?"_ Dean and Cas barked simultaneously. Dean took charge. "Please tell me you didn't make some dumbass deal, Sam. 'Cuz if you did, I swear to God I'll—"

"I didn't! I didn't make any deals, Dean. Honest."

"So what the hell were you two doing? Playing Yahtzee? Enlighten me."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the hot breath of the hellhound against the back of his lower calf. She stood directly behind him, Sam made sure of it, in case Cas would be able to instantly spot her. "We needed help, you know that. And I looked _everywhere_. So did you, and so did Cas. This was my last resort, man. It's crazy but if you just let her—"

 _"Her?"_ Dean interrupted. "What do you mean, 'her', Sam?"

The younger Winchester noticed that, beside his brother, Cas' eyes were trailing farther and farther down Sam's body, as if something was wrong. As if he could sense the existence of something foreign in the room. With a quirk of an eyebrow, the angel's cerulean stare stopped dead at Sam's legs, burning holes through them as Dean rambled on angrily in the background.

"...'Tellin' you, Sammy, this better not be some new demon bitch. We've had enough of those in this lifetime."

Sam would have laughed at the irony of that statement if his brother didn't look like he was ready to blow.

"Listen. Just trust me on this, alright? It's not some girl. Well— I mean it is, it's—not a girl-girl though it's— I just—"

 _"Sam..."_ Dean warned, and that's when Sam raised both arms in the air, motioning for his brother and Cas to stay put before he called out into what seemed like nothing.

"Sweetie, you can come out. It's okay." The hound waited for her human to say it one more time before she knew he meant it. Making herself visible, she continued to sit soundlessly behind him, her tail swishing across the floor.

Dean froze. Cas immediately drew his angel blade from his coat sleeve, glaring straight into the eyes of the hound. "Sam... why would you bring this abomination into the bunker? Are you insane?!" He took a few steps closer to the unfazed creature, wondering why it wasn't growling and snapping at any of their throats by now.

It was only when Cas' attention focused on Sam with the same intensity that the hound began to make a very low sound. It was a rumbly growl from deep in the hound's throat, almost sounding like a warning. Neither Sam or Dean seemed to be able to hear it, but it was loud enough for Cas' ears to pick up perfectly. He lowered the blade and the growling came to a sudden halt. When he raised it, it started again.

The younger Winchester could see the gears in Cas' head turning as he looked between him, and the powerful yet patient hound standing by his side.

"Look," Sam pleaded. "She's only a puppy. Sure, she'll get bigger— like, a lot bigger— but that's exactly what we need, isn't it? Having the extra muscle on our side is better than nothing, and she's incredibly intelli—"

"You can't be serious right now, Sam." Dean's eyes were narrowed into slits as he took a cautious yet demanding step forward. "Have you actually stopped to look at what the fuck you brought home?! This thing is a monster! Not a lost puppy, not a hunting dog, not fuckin' Air Bud 2.0! It's nothing but a blood thirsty son-of-a-bitch whose nicest quality is leaving your bones behind when it's through with you!"

Sweetie shuffled into a standing position, the low noise in her throat increasing in volume as she stepped in front of Sam. Dean could see the whites of her teeth peaking through her muzzle as she began to openly growl. None of this was going to plan. Sam knew that Dean would've already shot her if he had his gun on him. His previous... _adventures_ must've made him leave it elsewhere.

"Sweetie, down. What'd I tell you?" Sam hissed. It took a second, but the hound ceased her growls and was on her haunches again soon enough. Her head craned to meet Sam's disappointed stare. "You didn't listen. Bad dog."

Dean was completely seeing red, ready for Cas to jump into action and ice the evil little fucker, until suddenly, he saw the pointed ears of the creature flatten. A series of whimpers erupted from its throat as it held its head down, nosing at the ground before rubbing its muzzle against Sam's legs. The man in question reached down to ruffle her coat very gently, whispering reassurances about Cas, Dean and their intentions with Sam. Sweetie settled next to her lanky owner's leg with her head held high once more, but her tail remained firmly tucked between her legs.

"What the..." Dean's mouth made an 'O' shape as he watched the hellhound not only submit to his brother, but show what looked a little too much like real sadness when it received a scolding. When Sam leaned down, he asked it to look him in the eye. It did. When he told it to stand down, it did. The older Winchester couldn't figure out what kind of spell Crowley had put on the thing, but he was all too sure that it was as temporary as they come. "You know what?"

Sam's gaze landed on his brother, eyes wide and ready to receive good news.

"I don't care if you're a regular 'Cesar Milan' for friggin' hellhounds, alright? This thing'll end up killing you, one way or another." He took another step forward, watching as his younger brother's face fell. "So either you bring it back to Crowley, or you kiss it goodbye right here and right—"

"Dean." Cas called, making the hunter pivot around to face him with a confused look. "Although I am... not at all fond of such a creature... Sam seems fully capable of containing it. With a hound like this, our odds are much better."

"C'mon. You for real, Cas? Look at it, it's—"

 _"Behaving,"_ the angel countered. "It has been following Sam's every order so far. When I approached it with my blade, it did not show any signs of aggression. In fact, it was quite passive. Only when I turned to Sam did the hellhound react. It gave out a very low frequency warning growl. Almost like it knew I would be the only one able to hear it."

"I told you, she's smarter than you think," Sam said.

Dean still did not seem convinced. Sam pressed further. "Crowley gave me the hound because he wants us to have a shot at saving the world. Turns out, he doesn't want it to end just as bad as we don't, man. No strings. No tricks. It's crazy, I know, but it's true. And y'know what? If somehow it turns out that you were right all along, I'll— I'll be the one to take care of it."

"And by 'take care of it', you mean—"

"Yeah, Dean. Yeah."

The silence that proceeded was heavy with emotion as everyone waited for the eldest Winchester's dictation. As much as Sam could tell Dean hated his proposal, he couldn't help but to see the benefit in it, too. Just by the way his older brother's feet shifted back and forth instead of remaining glued to the floor showed him that he had gotten through to him a little bit.

"Fine. But Sam, I swear, if that thing so much as acts out of line once, it's outta here. Immediately. Oh, and if I ever find it in my room, I'm shooting it. Got it?"

Sam nodded furiously, hiding his smile as Dean made a hasty exit, Cas right behind him.

He did it. He really did it. Sweetie would live to see another day, thankfully. The hunter knew that him and his new companion had much work to do to ensure her place in the bunker, but that was more than alright with him. She would come to be a great member of Team Free Will. All she needed was someone to have faith in her, and Sam fell right into that position.

He knew what it was like to be condemned as a monster for of attributes that were out of your control. The loyal hound cuddling into his leg was no monster, and he'd make damn sure everyone knew it like he did.


	4. Four.

Three months had passed since Sam had first adopted Sweetie, and they became quite the formidable duo within the short timespan. With a whistle, the hunter could make his hound decimate a room full of evil creatures, and boy was she vicious. With her invisibility and Sam's strategic abilities, they were virtually unstoppable. Sweetie wasn't just an attack dog, however. She had already saved three little girls from a house fire and always opted to provide comfort for victims who had suffered great injury in a monster scuffle. She hated not being able to save people, and on the rare occasions that she couldn't, she would whine and whine until Sam reached down and held her tight.

Dean was often witness to Sweetie in action, as she began to accompany them on hunts quite often. After the older Winchester found out what she had done to his seats, he banished her from the car, forcing the hound to teleport to each location. A little voice in his head figured he might've been too harsh considering how much she had been helping them, but the thought dissipated almost as soon as it arrived. The hound was still a threat. He couldn't let his guard down like his brother.

"C'mon, girl. You can do it," Sam encouraged. He stood at the bottom of the stairs in the bunker, his eyes focused on the now fully grown hellhound who had stubbornly planted herself on the top stair. Her left front leg and her right hind leg were wrapped carefully in heat-resistant bandages, every step for her most likely being agonizing.

Usually, Sweetie was able to recover from her wounds within a few minutes, thirty tops, but this was different. An earlier vampire hunt led to a surprise ambush, and although Team Free Will won, they didn't escape without injury. The hound was the bearer of the most lethal wounds, the venom from the vamps severely impairing her normally regenerative nervous system.

Sam knew it would probably take a while before she was okay to hunt again.

"I can't lift you, you're too big now. You gotta zap yourself down here."

The hound whined loudly, her tail flickering like a giant lighter in annoyance. Sam didn't budge. The two had a lengthy staring match before the hunter thought of something. "It's painful, I know, Sweetie. But if you come down here... I'll bring you a deer? How does that sound? Hm?"

Sweetie's ears perked right up at the word 'deer', and her claws began to press into the floor as she gained focus. Sam couldn't help but notice the way she kept appearing and disappearing in the same spot, and he was about to just give in and call Cas to help lift her down the steps. Before he could open his mouth, the hound was completely invisible.

The hunter's gaze was glued to the spot, waiting for Sweetie to appear again when suddenly he felt blood-matted fur rubbing against his leg. The tired hound looked up at her owner with tired eyes, the glowing red gone dull. "That's my girl. Let's go get you washed up."

After everyone was clean of blood and dirt and dust, they all scattered to different ends of the bunker, wanting nothing more than some alone time. Sam noticed that Cas was gone, perhaps taking care of something elsewhere, which left Dean free to lounge in The Dean Cave by himself. Meanwhile, his younger brother sat comfortably in his room, head buried in a book and one arm extended off of his bed. His slender fingers ran through Sweetie's blow dried pelt, earning him the occasional lick. Things were quiet, the exception being the faint noise of whatever Western film Dean was watching down the hall.

There was more silence, and then a dog's bark came from Dean's T.V., making Sweetie's head rise and tilt out of instinct. In a second, she was gone.

Sam didn't notice for a good five minutes, too invested in his novel to realize his hound wasn't within reach anymore. It was only when he went to clutch at her fur again did the younger Winchester snap out of his tunnel vision, calling out to the air in case she was still in the room. He couldn't hear her breathing at all, so it was assumed that she had felt good enough to go and stretch her legs around the bunker. Sam laid back down, knowing she'd return soon.

Sweetie sat silently in The Dean Cave, watching the flatscreen with an intense curiosity. She knew she wasn't really supposed to be in there, as Dean had banished her before, but she couldn't help it. She wanted to see the dogs. Her glance bounced between the T.V. and the eldest Winchester's calm face, and she took several steps closer to the couch. In an instant, Dean turned his nose in the air, brow furrowed as he inhaled deeply.

"Why the hell do I smell dog in here? _Sam!_ "

Sweetie only grew more mischievous, laying down right beside the couch as she left out a deep huff.

Dean paused the movie, ears focused. "You in here, Devil Dog?"

Sweetie huffed again.

The hunter threw his upper body over the side of the couch, looking in every direction as he shouted, "well, get out!" Sweetie was only about a foot away from his face, and when she appeared in that very moment, Dean let out a girlish gasp, jumping backwards into his mound of blankets. _"Fuck me!"_

She woofed, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she turned her attention back to the screen.

"Oh, _no_ ," Dean followed her gaze, his head shaking dramatically. "Not happening. You're not staying. Now go back to your egghead of an owner before I drag you back myself." Dean gave the hound a once over when she didn't move a muscle, and realized she was all bandaged up.

"You must've teleported in here. _So do it again_. Shoo!"

Sweetie stayed put. Dean sighed, running a calloused hand down his face. The hound was being a real pain in the ass, sitting there all calm and patient-like.

He couldn't believe it's audacity!

Sweetie barked as a dog flashed across the screen, head moving with the action in excitement.

"Yeah, it's a dog. So what? You having a existential moment or something?" Dean realized the hound was too focused on the screen to hear him, and gave her his best eye roll. "Whatever. Just shut up and don't bother me and you can stay."

Sweetie nudged at the popcorn bowl that laid on the table in front of the couch, before flashing Dean her best puppy dog look. She whimpered, and his face went from annoyed, to deadpanned, to considerate. "You learn that from my dumbass little brother? Huh?"

The hound continued to nudge at the bowl. Dean snapped, grabbing it off the table and shoving his hand in until it was full of kernels. With a slight hesitancy, he extended the fist and allowed Sweetie to sniff around before opening it. She immediately gobbled down all of the popcorn, attempting to lick Dean's hand clean of all the butter and salt but a firm push on her muzzle stopped that from happening.

"Happy now, mutt?"

Alas, she wasn't yet satisfied, daring to push her head into his outstretched arm. She cuddled against it, and Dean moved the limb away like he had been burned. He knew that was actually possible. He'd seen the thing roast people alive when they touched her. They were all bad sons-of-bitches who had it coming, he'll admit, but still. This creature was nowhere near a regular dog.

Sam sure treated it like it was, though. Feeding it, bathing it, hell, he'd even seen the guy play-fighting with it, the younger male's hearty laughter as he rolled around on the floor with the hound still fresh in Dean's mind. Dean could see how happy it had made his brother over the past couple of months, he wasn't blind. He just didn't think it would last. But the older Winchester had to admit— the hound could take some rough shots. It had saved their asses a few more times than Dean would've liked it to, and was overall a pretty tamed animal when it was around him, Sam and Cas.

Another woof from Sweetie snapped him out of his contemplative state, and he reached into the bowl to satisfy her craving once again.

"You're a little asshole, you know that?" Dean said, a little softer than usual.

She simply snorted at the insult, licking the hunter's fingers and leaning her head into his palm until he slowly began to stroke her wild fur. She relaxed into the touch, and Dean went back to watching the film, his digits idly combing through the hound's mane.

When Sam eventually got up to look for Sweetie, the last place he expected to find her was curled up against his brother. They both were sleeping soundly, the sound of cowboys and their trusty dogs going on fantastical adventures sweeping them away into the dream realm like a soft song.

Fin.


End file.
